Ace the Wonder Dog, according to my kids, is more lion than dog!
A couple of years ago I began emailing frequently with a young woman from Egypt who is very attuned to animals and wanted to learn to better communicate with them. Several of us were learning the art of deep mindfulness around our animals and reading an astounding little book called Kinship with All Life a classic on communion with animals.
Though we had only talked about our horses one day my new friend told me that she sensed that I had a dog that had something very important to tell me. I had three dogs at the time. So she described the one in question as ”hazel or light chestnut” and described my golden retriever’s personality. So I kept an open mind and went about my business. Interesting, but what did I know about animal communication?
Not long after that a friend and I were discussing how amazing the web of life can be and how we sometimes “know” things even though there is no logical reason for it. We were talking about the animals and I remembered what my young friend had said about Ace.
And you know what? I walked right out the front door where I saw him peering at me through the glass and intently watching my conversation with my friend. I asked him if he wanted to tell me something. And his answer might as well as been delivered over a loud speaker. I felt his answer suddenly, “I just wanted to remind you that when we met, you knew me…and that I was your dog.” I felt like one of those cartoon characters who hits themselves on the head with a big “duh.”
I met this loving canine soul when he moved in next door to me in town many years ago. One day his owner, a single father, asked if it might be possible to pet sit him while he took his boys away for a Christmas holiday with family. He was a perfect gentlemen, house trained, the works.
Hmmm, “A beautiful dog to lie in front of the fireplace for a few days with me??” My “Yes!” took about ten seconds. I had missed having dogs in my life since losing my first dog to my divorce.
So into my life walked Ace, the Wonder Dog. My reaction was stunning. “I KNOW this dog,” I felt. “He’s MY dog.” It was as clear as that.
I thought I was crazy that perhaps his energy reminded me of my old childhood dog, a black lab (similar “retriever vibe?”) Or maybe he represented what I WANTED in a dog.
No, I felt he was MY DOG. I told his loving owner that if he EVER sold him or had to let him go to let me know. He assured me that Ace would always be his family and that his boys would never under any circumstances want to let him go.
Two or three years later I got a sudden phone call. “I have to move, the boys are living with their mom now, and am leaving town in an hour.” my old neighbor said. “If you want Ace, he’s yours but you have to be here within the hour.”
Needless to say I dropped everything and drove across town – I was now living on the farm – to pick up “my” dog.
Well I took him straight to the vet as I knew my friend’s idea of hygiene and mine were different. By this time I had another dog at home to protect. So he got a good bath and some shots and was tested for heartworms.
The heartbreaking news was that he was RIDDLED with heartworms. I was so angry at my friend that he didn’t spend $10.00 a month to prevent this! Because he was a large 100-plus pounds, and was already 9 years old my vet said that the traditional treatment for heartworms would likely kill him.
“Take him home and let him live a comfortable life and enjoy what time you have,” said my vet. We decided to give him a preventative for new heartworms which prevented the babies from maturing but wouldn’t attack the adults, which could kill my Ace. So I resigned myself to do so.
“I may not have long with him but I’ll love him,” I thought.
I took him in for the all clear a couple of years ago and he tested negative for any heartworms. The vet was amazed. For a long time he even ran with Wounded Warrior many miles a week.
Today this lovely dog is losing strength in his spine and back legs at the age of almost 16. Like most retrievers he loves swimming in the pond, which his former owner assured me he hated. And he still literally BOUNCES (pretty hard in his body) like a puppy, happy to see me every morning on our trips to the barn to feed his larger farm mates.
Yes, he has a good life! And I love this dog.
MY dog!
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Truly a lovely story! Enjoyed it much!
Have had my cat “Lucky” for nearly 5 years now…a nice presence when I get home in the evening…waking me up at least once in the middle of each night…for food or to get outside… At times my mood reflects in his eyes…he can be very expressive but not as emotional as the female Boxer I had years ago…Tekila was her name…
I’m so glad you liked the story. When we allow deep communion with our animals it can be so rewarding! (Except when they awake us in the middle of the night. Bad, Lucky!)
Hugs,
Allison
This story really resonates with me. I once adopted a street dog in the very touristy city of Tiberias on the Sea of Galilee, close to all of the sites of Jesus’ ministry during his three years in Galilee. This was about 16 years ago. This dog was a beautiful Australian shepherd – mix, with a real working dog attitude — and cute as a button. A friend who managed a restaurant on the Boardwalk would feed her and other strays, and as I would eat lunch there a lot, I got to know this dog and felt a real bond with her.
An unspayed female, she seemed to have a constant sexuality about her that had all the male dogs followed her around in a daze — when not in heat — or perhaps she was just their ring leader. She was so smart that she would sneak into the back of the local hotel kitchens and wait to be fed by animal-loving staff or steal food on her own.
After a few months my friend tried to convince me that I was the perfect person to adopt this dog and I finally took her home for a trial. It took only one day for me to realize that we understood each other perfectly. She immediately started carrying herself with the pride and dignity of a loved dog– tail and nose up in the air, and a ‘look at me, ain’t I wonderful’ attitude — something no street dog can do well. The first time I walked her downtown and over to the restaurant — all the “regular” customers, who should have recognized this dog, did not — they asked me where I had bought this lovely purebred bitch and would not believe that she was the same street dog.
Because of her seemingly endless l attraction to other dogs, I named her “Easy”. Easy would walk to work with me, which was at the local tourist information office. She wasn’t allowed inside the building so I would leave her on the grounds of the surrounding park. Foreign tourists would remark over the dog who seemed to herd them over to our office door.
I worked an 8 1/2 hour day so Easy would disappear for hours on her own routine, make the hotel kitchen rounds to see if anyone would feed her, and who knows what else. If I wanted her to come to me I only had to think, “Easy, come here” and within 5 minutes she would be standing by the office door.
Probably because of her instincts as a herding dog, I only had to think something, and she would do it. Training her was intuitive for both of us and completely effortless.
Something happened once that I will never be able to explain…. Maya, my young niece, took a bus from Tel Aviv to Tiberias to visit. She is also an animal lover and she and Easy were great pals. She had no idea how to find my office so I told her to speak to the woman at the Information window at the bus station, who would provide her with instructions, and even a local map, and would also phone and give me a heads up. I was waiting all morning – no phone call. Suddenly my niece appeared at the office door together with Easy. She told me that when she got off the bus, Easy was waiting for her at the station and led her to my office. The bus station is a good quarter mile from my office.
If anyone can give me a logical, “rational” explanation for this, I’m eager to hear it. I prefer to think that Easy could read my mind.
When I had to travel overseas for almost a month I left Easy in the care of a young girl who lived on the kibbutz where I stabled my horses. She was riding and training one of my horses. By the time I returned to Israel the two of them had bonded so closely that I could not in full heart bring Easy home. Every time Talia was at school or away and I was at the setables, Easy would find me and things would be as always, but once Talia was in the picture, I was obviously second choice, so I choose to leave them together.
Thanks for listening.
Tzviah Idan
Great, great story. I have an Aussie, too. They’re truly intuitive and very, very talented.